It was meant for her
by TeenageIceMachine
Summary: What happens when you have a ring made for the one you love to bind you to her for the rest of your life? What happens when it is put on the finger of the wrong person? DHR
1. The Engagement Party

**Disclaimer:** I am not J.K. Rowling. No infringement is meant by this piece. I am not making money off of it, nor am I responsible for the characters. I only own the plot.

**_It was meant for her._**

That's all I could think about as I watched these people around me. They were twittering about without a care in the world. None of them friends, all of them foes. They stood next to me, shaking my hand and congratulating me on my 'catch'. They lied straight to my face; telling me I was lucky and obviously blessed that she had accepted. I looked them straight in the eyes, and had no problem lying to them. I answered each and every exclamation of luck with two words. "I know". They all seem pleased with this response, and would flit off to find someone else to talk to and leave me to drown my sorrows in a drink….or seven.

I looked up at the woman of the hour, or hours as it would seem that she wanted this little party to go on forever. I shuddered in disgust. She was twirling around for her girlfriends, in her hideous pink robes with her hair curled tighter than the hypothetical noose around my neck. And let me tell you, I'm beginning to run out of breath here. Gods, stop twirling! I want to rush over there and pull her away from them, not because I miss her, but I want her to stop telling people imaginary words I supposedly told her. I can only imagine the lies she's feeding them now. "Oh, he proposed to me on a yacht south of the Mediterranean with the sunset behind us, and the stars just beginning to shine." Rubbish; the lot of it. I proposed to her with my father's wand against my temple and my mother tied up and beaten in the room next to me. There was no sunset, no lightly chirping crickets, and there certainly was no yacht. It was in the dungeon just outside my mother's cell, which coincidentally was also my lover's cell as well. They had put my mother in with my lover; although I knew it wouldn't be a bad thing. They had known about each other, and actually got along for the most part. My mother did not; however get along with this woman. She had hated her from the day she met her. Told me that night that this woman here looked like a floozy, and that just because she was a Pureblood did not mean she was pure in any other way.

I wish I had listened then. I would have severed all ties to her. Then I might not have had to utter those horrific words to her, and would currently be in a much happier predicament. Unfortunately, I was still my father's pawn in all things, and my mother's words had no effect on me whatsoever. I still rue the day that I came home with that ring.

**FLASHBACK**

"Mother! Come quickly, I want to show you the ring I got for…" I shouted until I saw just who was walking down the marble staircases.

"I am so dreadfully sorry to tell you that your mother's a bit, well indisposed at the moment, but if you would like to show me the ring, then by all means, please do so. As your father, I should inspect it to insure it is up to…..par." said the man moving down the stairs. It was none other than the domineering figure Lucius Malfoy.

"F-Father, what are you doing out of Azkaban?"

**END FLASHBACK**

Thinking back on it, I must have sounded like a scared first year that has never been away from home before, but at the time it didn't matter. At the time, I practically was one.

I was interrupted from my thoughts when I heard a loud screech and a prompt cry of "What the hell is that doing here?" It seems the melodic voice of my fiancée is what brought me back to the present. I turned to look at where her finger was pointing and my eyes settled on the door. It can't be. She's supposed to be dead. Dead or not, I got to my feet, and threaded my way through the crowd to her. To my……….

**A/N: This version has not been looked over by my beta. When she comes back I will send it to her for her to fix, but I need to know if I should continue with this story or not. I will be updating the other story as well, as I have 20 pages written for it, but this just popped into my head and I felt the need to write it. Please tell me what you think!**

**-becca**


	2. Arrival of a Ghost

**Disclaimer:** I am not J.K. Rowling. No infringement is meant by this piece. I am not making money off of it, nor am I responsible for the characters. I only own the plot.

"Hermione!" I screamed as I pushed my way past the vapid and shallow bystanders. She looked awful. Her hair was matted with dried blood, and her clothes were ripped and dirty. She had long gashes on either side of her face indicating the curses my father had used on her. I wanted nothing more than to cradle her in my arms and tell her everything was going to be alright. So I did. In front of all those people, in front of family, friends, and most especially, my father; I hugged her to me and began to pepper kisses all over her cheeks, hands, eyelids, basically anything I could touch.

The other guests at the party looked on shocked at the display they were witnessing. Whispers of "What's going on and why is she here?" began to filter throughout the room. The arrival of 1/3 of the Golden Trio caused the ballroom to become abuzz with excitement. The arrival was completely unexpected and unfortunately very upsetting to witness. Hermione Granger had arrived. Unfortunately to some, it was the arrival of a ghost. You see, Hermione Granger is dead in the wizarding world, and the muggle world if you want to be technical. She has been missing for a little over 6 months. Locator spells, appearance charms, and good old fashioned (witch!) hunts went on for 3 months. Each and every spell, charm, and person that was sent out to find her, came back empty handed. The only way those spells would not work is if the person being searched for is dead. Thus 3 months after the first search, the wizarding world attended the funeral of one Hermione Granger.

But here she was; in person! Alive, though not completely healthy by the looks of her. The doors to the parlor entrance burst open and 2 wizards leading a pack of over a dozen aurors rushed towards me and my Hermione. Weasley and Potter. The dynamic duo as they had come to be known in the auror leagues. During their training they had become especially good when working alongside each other. No surprise there. I always had thought them to be poofs, but apparently they aren't. Ginny Potter's belly can attest to that. Either way, here they were rushing at me at full speed, and my first reaction was to protect Hermione. I turned her away from them, and placed myself as the barrier between my broken love, and their careless running. Good thing too, seeing as Weasley ending up running into my back in his haste. Here it comes.

"MALFOY!" he screamed, "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HERMIONE! GIVE HER HERE!"

"Fuck off Weasel." Not the best comeback, but give me a break. My love stirred at the sound of his voice though, and she turned her head.

A ghost of a smile graced her lips, and she uttered two words.

"Love...Draco."


End file.
